


I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.

by judgementdays



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, and in return harry really likes louis, dorky!harry, high school au???, louis really likes harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:42:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judgementdays/pseuds/judgementdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry laughs at that, and it’s a brilliant sound, Louis thinks. Lately, Louis thinks everything Harry does is brilliant.</p><p>or</p><p>Harry's a dork and Louis may have a bit of a duckling crush on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! i know i said i was working on a part 2 for We Will Put the Lonesome on the Shelf, and also another tomlinshaw, but i wrote this up last night while i was rlly sad and i was re-reading marky and i's conversation and so yeah. this is for marky, but also kind of for me. and anyone who reads it, of course.
> 
> i didn't edit it and i hope it's sort of okay??

It’s four in the evening when the sky starts to turn dark, the leaves that had fallen from the trees the night before blowing slowly in the late night wind.

Harry says that trees remind him of forgiveness; that no matter how many times the leaves vanish from their homes, no matter how many seasons they just disappear, the trees always forgive them again in the spring.

He’s telling Louis this as they walk across the sidewalk together, fingers laced sweetly.

“I think people should be more like trees,” Harry concludes, voice softer, huskier, as they walk along, their feet crunching in the piles of leaves laying on the sidewalk.

“But what if the leaves are really mean to the trees?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow over at him, “What if the leaves said a bunch of mean things. Like, told the tree he could go suck a cock or something, then left?”

Harry laughs at that, and it’s a brilliant sound, Louis thinks. Lately, Louis thinks everything Harry does is brilliant. And it’s not even because they’re sort of, kind of dating. It’s just because Harry smells good, and he looks good, and he’s sweet and kisses Louis on the cheek when they pass each other in the hallway on the way to class. This sort of, kind of dating Harry thing is nice and in return, everything Harry says, as boring and meaningless as it is, becomes rich and sweet in his ears.

“Well, if the trees don’t forgive the leaves, then they’ll be living their whole life in regret and sorrow. The trees would stay mad at the leaves forever, and then we wouldn't have seasons, or like, anything. Everything revolves around a few simple things, y’know?” Harry sounds so interested in this tree metaphor, Louis doesn't have the heart to tell him that no, he doesn't know. If someone tried to get him back after they left and stomped over his heart, he wouldn't forgive them, no chance.

“Yeah,” Louis replies with quietly instead, sneaking his eyes up to see Harry and oh, he thinks. Harry’s lips just look really, really, kissable right now. And it’s kind of not okay.

He sort of wants to pull Harry down by his collar and kiss him hard, a kiss that he’ll be thinking about for years to come.

“Harry,” Louis says, staring up at Harry’s face, watching the taller boy look down at him with wonder in his eyes, urging him to continue.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” It’s a little off topic, Louis knows, but fuck, his heels are bouncing and he can feel his stomach churning. Duckling crushes, that's what his mum calls them, are the worst, he thinks.

Harry smiles a little shyly and Louis can see a blush creep up  his cheeks as he shakes his head, gripping his large hand in Louis’ smaller one tighter.

“Right,” Louis says, and well, Louis hasn't gotten the best kissing experiences ever, either, but he’ll suppose it’ll have to do. “Come over here.”

Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s wrist and tugs Harry along to a park bench, setting them both down on the cold, wooden bench. Leaves are spread nicely around it, and Louis wonders if he’s still thinking about his tree metaphor.

“Right,” Louis says again, smoothing his mittened hands onto his thighs as he smiles up at Harry, who looks a bit nervous, but is smiling just as brightly down at him.

Louis can tell Harry has no clue where he should put his hands, or his long arms and even longer legs. The boy’s a giant, is the thing, and Louis likes to think he’d fit nicely in Harry's lap. You know, if Harry wasn’t so shy about everything.

“Right,” Louis says for a third time, when all they've been doing is staring at each other, smiling stupidly.

And then they’re both leaning in, and the world around them seems to disappear. Here it is, Louis thinks, and he just almost squeals when he can feel Harry’s breath, hot on his own. It feels like a million butterflies that are trapped in a jar are now floating around in his stomach, and he feels a little faint, but then their foreheads and noses are bumping and the butterflies screech to a halt.

“Ow,” Harry says, his hand pressed against his face, as if he’s trying to keep blood from rushing out his nose. “Does that always happen?” He asks, cringing, and Louis feels a bit like cringing as well.

“Um. No. Not always, no,” Louis says and honestly, his forehead feels well bruised.

“I mean, normally our lips would touch. And like, I dunno. I think we both have to tilt our heads,” Louis offers with a small shrug, and he can see Harry smiling from where his hand is covering his face.

“Try again?” Harry offers, and yeah, Louis thinks. Of course.

They're leaning in again, this time Harry’s eyes stay open a little and so do Louis’, just to make sure their foreheads don’t clink nosily together. Their breath is on each other again, hot and nervous little sharp intakes of breaths.

Louis’ chin is tilted up, and to be honest, his neck is starting to hurt. When did Harry get so tall? Did he grow a foot over the weekend? Their lips still aren’t touching, and then Harry’s hesitantly reaching forward to put a hand on Louis’ hip. 

“This okay?” Harry asks nervously, and his breath smells like mint gum and cotton candy. He wonders where Harry got cotton candy from, and he quickly prays his breath doesn’t smell like the back of a pencil, the only thing he has chewed on all day.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers softly, so Harry places his other hand on the back of his neck and his fingers are long and spidery, soft and pale, and it’s enough to make him lose most, if not all, control, reaching up to grab the collar of Harry’s shirt and pull him down to make their lips touch.

He can feel Harry almost gasp against his lips, but then he’s smiling, fingers curling tighter around his hip and their noses bump, but only softly and they laugh into each others mouths and Louis’ fingers clutch at the fabric of Harry’s shirt, their eyes fluttering close.

“Louis?” Harry asks quietly once they pull away, their foreheads neatly resting against each other, lips hardly ghosting their skin and Louis nods, afraid his voice will go all high pitched if he tries to speak.

“I think you’re prettier than fall,” Harry whispers, and it’s dumb. It’s totally, completely dumb, but Louis swoons like a teenage girl to himself anyway.

He just responds with another long kiss and Harry fucking beams against his mouth, and yeah. He thinks Harry will remember this kiss, for years and years to come.

And he’ll be right there beside him, thinking about it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, my tumblr is judgementdays. feedback is nice, love you guys!
> 
> ~i love everything about you  
> right up to the tippy top of  
> your head  
> i love everything about you  
> even all your  
> little threads~


End file.
